Freedom by the Press
by HeroOfTheCastleOfMarble
Summary: The entire Wizarding World believes Sirius Black killed a street of Muggles, murdered Peter Pettigrew, and was the heir to Voldemort. Everyone that is except Danica Clarke. Please READ AND REVIEW!
1. The Reporter

A/N: So this idea popped up into my head when I was writing Wind and Waves and I wrote a bit of it, planned some, but never posted it. So I thought I would finally post it now, just so I stop it from bubbling up into my subconscious all the time. I think it's a pretty different idea - so I hope you all enjoy it. It's going to be a bit AU, but I'm going to try to keep a chunk of it sort of cannon - how much will really depend on how the story goes and what you guys think. Any questions please ask :)

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot, Danica Clarke, and any other character you don't recognize. JK owns the rest.

Enjoy!

* * *

Freedom by the Press

_"Congress shall make no law ... prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press..."_

_-Amendment 1, United States Constitution-_

Chapter 1: The Reporter

**Sirius Black: Truly A Mass Murderer?**

**By: Danica Clarke**

_This coming October will mark the 12__th__ anniversary of Voldemort's demise and the freeing of the wizarding world. But it will also mark the date where two noble souls perished, Lily and James Potter, succeeded by their son, Harry Potter. These past years their deaths have been blamed not only on Voldemort, but also on his "spy" Sirius Black, who was the best friend of James Potter. It has been claimed over the past years that Sirius Black somehow contributed to the death of Potters by Voldemort, who it's rumored chose Black as his heir. Shortly after the fall of Voldemort, Black then went on to murder one of the Potters' friends, Peter Pettigrew, along with a street full of Muggles. Currently Black is in Azkaban for his crimes. _

_However, though these facts are presented, some holes remain unfilled. Would a Gryffindor really go to the dark side? It is known that Sirius Black never got a trial. Is the Wizarding World just taking it all for granted?_

_Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge said that -_

"Are you out of your mind, Clarke?" Gregory Cummings howled, throwing down the pages and glaring across his desk. "Are you drunk or did you just hit your head when you woke up this morning and decide 'Hey, I'll make my newspaper the laughing stock of the entire Wizarding World!!'"

Danica Clarke folded her arms across her chest, fixing her boss with a steely look that was intensified by her light blue-silver eyes. "I'm thinking we should find out the truth. For the past 12 years all anyone's been saying is Sirius Black is a murderer. That he was the heir of Lord Voldemort, that he killed Peter Pettigrew and a street of muggles, went crazy-"

"Well if he wasn't then he is now." Cummings broke in. "Twelve years in Azkaban will do that to someone, you know."

Danica frowned. "He never even had a trial! How do we know he's really guilty?"

"He blew up the entire street in front of eye witnesses!"

"In front of Muggles. They can be mistaken..." Danica pointed out.

"As can hot-headed young reporters." Danica glowered at him. "Look, Clarke, you have no proof that Black is innocent at all.."

Danica threw up her arms. "That's exactly my point. There's no solid proof to say that he isn't!"

"He blew up the whole damn street, Clarke!" Cummings repeated angrily. "We found a finger of that Petty kid."

"Pettigrew."

"Yeah right whatever. If that's not proof I don't know what is."

"Maybe his word. He never said he worked for Vold" - Cummings hissed- "emort" Danica finished defiantly.

"If I claim that I didn't steal the cookie from the cookie jar, it doesn't mean I didn't lie about it." Cummings pointed out.

Danica eyed her boss' large belly and inwardly rolled her eyes. It's not like anyone would believe you, she thought bitterly.

"My point is you can't go digging into something that's not there. He's a murderer, a spy, who deserves prison, maybe worse. Leave it alone!"

"I think someone should investigate it. I want to - "

"Why don't we give Muggles a chance to tour Hogwarts while we're pardoning mass murderers. Give it up Clarke. There's no story!"

"Mr. Cumm-"

"Enough, Clarke!" Cummings shouted, banging his fist on the desk and making Danica jump in her seat. "This is the Daily Prophet. _Not_ the Quibbler!! Now go find something useful to write about."

"But-"

"Now, Clarke!!"

--

Danica Clarke walked out of her boss' office, slamming the door behind her and hoping in the back of her mind that one of the precious plaques that he made for himself fell and smashed on the floor. She growled under her breath angrily, holding her article between her fist of fingers. She'd been working as a reporter for the past four years, and she was still stuck with scrapping the bottom of the barrel for a good news story and hardly getting published at all. Sure she had been hanging around for the 8 years she'd been out of Hogwarts, before she'd joined the newspaper, at any second-hand job or washed-out magazine she could get her hands on. But she was writer, and a pretty damned good one.

More than that she was stubborn, and the fact that there wasn't a shred of proof in Black's defense didn't waver her.

Sirius Black, prankster extraordinare turned…Death Eater? Stark Gryffindor the heir to the most pure of Slytherins? It didn't make sense. And it was no more believable to her than Rita Skeeter's most recent article on the Minister of Magic's assistant's affair with one of the Weird Sisters.

The she-devil herself was the first person Danica met as she walked toward her office. More like a sneaky crocodile, Danica thought in the back of her mind, with those fake tears of hers.

"Danica." Rita smiled at her, her alligator handbag hung off her arm and she looked slightly pink in the face as if she'd just been outside.

Probably sniffing around for a story, Danica thought bitterly. It didn't matter how hard she tried, Rita always got one up, always got the secret information. What was even scarier was that more often than not there was a vague truth to her story. The assistant had been sleeping with someone…even if it wasn't a Weird Sister.

I don't know how she does it, Danica said to herself, but one day someone is going to catch her and pop that little bubble of snootiness right around her ears.

The Quick Quill that Rita was never without hovered near her shoulder, poised to write anything that Danica would say. You always had to be careful when talking to Rita, Danica realized. You never knew when you might be turned into her next headline.

"Hi, Rita." Danica replied, stopping just outside her own office. Safety. But Rita was bearing down on her and all she could to was stand there as the long nailed, obnoxiously dressed woman gave her a hug and a fake peck to the air.

"Whatever are you doing wandering around?" Rita said, fluffing her hair with her hand. "You should be working on your next 'big scoop'."

The gibe didn't pass Danica, who barely managed to hold her temper in. "I was talking to Mr. Cummings." She replied shortly.

Rita looked interested. "Oh…really….about…?"

Danica knew better than to tell Rita anything that could get her into even more trouble, or lose her a story, no matter how farfetched Cummings thought it was. "Personal business." Danica replied shortly.

"Oh." Rita's eyes flashed like a cat eyeing a canary. The Quick Quill was speeding across the page and Danica glared and promptly yanked the paper out of the air, leaving the quill paused, as if looking at her.

"It was nice to see you Rita."

The grin was painted on the other woman's face as Danica stepped into her office and closed the door behind her with a loud snap.

With a sigh she glanced around the small room. A desk was up against one wall with a patched chair that was leaning slightly to the left. A bookshelf was on the opposite wall, holding any books and scrapbooks of newspapers she ever needed at work. Papers littered the floor and flooded her desk. Danica sighed and walked past the wall that held her Hogwarts degree as well as two pictures, one of her as a young school girl with friends and another of her older with the same group of friends, minus one.

Danca settled down in her chair and dropped the page with her article on it on the desk in front of her. Then she opened the paper the Quick Quill had been writing on.

_Ms. Clarke looks on in awe as the famous, not to mention beautiful, reporter Rita Skeeter comes and gives her a warm hug. She looks surprised and honored that such a highly respected person-_

Danica snorted. Famous? More like infamous. Warm hug? Looked on in awe?

_Ms. Clarke, wearing old, worn clothing that is plainly for years ago, perhaps stashed in the back of a moldy closet-_

Old, worn clothing? Danica glanced down at her fading blue jeans and her long-sleeve pale blue shirt that was layered under a short-sleeve green top. Her tennis shoes were fraying at the edges. Well it's better than dressing up like some gaudy Barbie doll, Danica seethed, pulling at the edge of her royal blue robe that hung open across her shoulders.

_When questioned about her conversation with Mr. Greg Cummings, Ms. Clarke gets a soft loving look in her eyes as she replies with a silky voice, "Personal business." One doesn't need to wonder what kind of personal business that might be…_

"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" Danica gagged as she balled up the piece of paper and tossed it across the room, missing the trash can terribly. "Of all the ridiculous…" She fumed under her breath, crumpling papers in her fists.

The owl that flew through the window the next minute had to peck her very hard on the knuckle for her to finally notice it, and stop her fuming about Rita. "What-oh." She said taking the letter from its leg. "Um…thank you?" She said as it clicked its beak at her and flew off.

Danica opened the letter and found her friend Amelia's handwriting scrawled across one of the papers.

_Hope you're doing well, _the letter read, then went on to talk about all that the other woman was doing, her new husband and how she was expecting a baby, and also expecting Danica to not only be at the baby shower, but also to be the baby's godmother. The letter continued asking how she was doing and so forth. Danica sighed. It was exciting for Amelia, a husband and a baby on the way.

And herself? Still single. Always been single, except for a boyfriend for the amazing length of three weeks while she was in her 5th year a Hogwarts. First kiss? She wished.

Well she had a job, Danica sighed inwardly. A job she enjoyed, most of the time. Boys would just have to wait. But at 29….she sighed again. By now she should've had more than one steady boyfriend and a handful of dates that amounted to nothing.

You have too high standards, one of her friends said.

You just need to let it happen and not go looking for it, Amelia said.

What about a dating service? That had been her matchmaking Aunt who had moved away to France…or Germany, Danica couldn't remember which.

Dancia groaned and shut her eyes, leaning back in her chair. She supposed it wouldn't hurt to try the dating service…or to lower her standards just a little…maybe not imagine the heroic prince carrying her off into the night on a Hippogriff, flying into the stars. Perhaps she was expecting a bit too much.

But she hadn't been looking for it, and so far it hadn't come looking for her either. Concentrate on the story, Danica coached herself, then worry about your love life, or lack there of, later.

The story. She looked at her article and cringed. As much as it irritated her to agree with Mr. Cummings, he was right in one point: she didn't have enough proof. Actually she had no proof whatsoever. No proof for her theory that Sirius Black wasn't what everyone said he was. Danica let out a deep breath. She wasn't even sure anymore why she didn't believe it herself - why she didn't just accept the fact that Sirius Black was a murderer and move on.

All she knew was that for the past 12 years something had been stirring in her gut, telling her something was just off, and now at the beginning of spring the stirring had increased. Now it was telling her to get a move on and not waste any more years. And if there was one thing that Danica always did, it was follow her gut - no matter where it led her.

Of course if it led to nowhere than it would all have been for nothing, right? Danica groaned and shut her eyes again.

The smell of tea caused her to open her eyes and look at the steaming mug sitting in front of her. She glanced up and saw the goofy grin of a fellow reporter..

Danica looked at him and then looked at the drink again. "Mine?" She asked.

'Morning to you too sunshine." He told her, flicking his brown bangs out of his eyes. "Yeah it's yours."

She grinned at him. "Thanks Jeff." Then took a sip. It was perfect.

"Anything for my aspiring front-page reporter to-be." He said, sitting on the edge of her desk. "How'd your meeting with the head honcho go?"

Danica rolled her eyes. "Horrible."

"Well, you are trying to prove that Azkaban's most prized and highest level prisoner shouldn't be there." Jeff told her.

Danica shook her head. "It shouldn't matter…what should matter is the truth."

Jeff chuckled and gave her a sympathetic look. "You're working for a newspaper…you should've learned by standing near Rita when she's in the spotlight that the truth is really just a starting point. You need much more than a 'truth' to get a front page story, Danica."

Jeff grabbed her article and skimmed it, then winced. "And you could start by interviewing someone other than Fudge…or Crouch for that matter. They're the ones who put him there, denied him the trial. Whatever they say is going to biased. Heck, I wouldn't even use Dumbledore. Not that Dumbledore isn't reliable…but he's already said all he knows, and maybe it's not everything. He may be the best Headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen and he may be the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of, but he wasn't there when Voldemort killed the Potters, or when Black blew up the street…and he wasn't Sirius Black's confident."

Danica made a face at his words and Jeff tossed her a grin. "Go home, Danica. Go home and forget about this."

Danica gave him a sad look. "I've been trying to 'forget it' but it just keeps coming back."

Giving her one more sympathetic look, Jeff turned and left the room.

Left alone in her office, Danica realized Jeff did have a point. Not about forgetting about the story, but going home. There wasn't anything left for her to do at the office, why not go home and relax? She stood up, grabbed her article and stuffed it in her bag, along with a couple of books from the shelf. She snatched her cloak and pulled it around her and then left the room.

Once outside the Daily Prophet building, Danica pulled her wand out from the back pocket of her jeans and raised it up. A roaring sound met her ears and she saw the purple Knight Bus swoop in beside her. The doors opened and a man leaned out.

"What stop?" He asked quickly.

Danica smiled. "Hogsmeade."

Danica sat curled up on her sofa looking around the living room. It was small, but she liked it that way. Her kitchen was out to her right and her bedroom and bathroom out to her left. Anytime one of her friends came over they complained about how lacking space it was, but Danica liked the comfort of everything being together. It was much more homey than any large house her friends had tried to make her move into.

The hot chocolate warmed her palms, even though it was summertime. Chocolate. The best remedy. She smiled slightly and took another sip. A brown object jumped in front of her, landing softly on the couch beside her. Danica glanced down and smiled at her cat. "You want some too?" She asked it. The cat purred loudly and stepped onto her lap, kneading her leg until she stroked behind its ears.

As the purrs intensified Danica felt her mind wander back to the story. Even when she was trying to relax it plagued her…like the little brother that wouldn't go away. She sighed and leaned back against the couch, deepening into thought over Jeff's words. 'he wasn't his confident ….interview someone other than the biased ones who put him there…'

Danica's brown furrowed. Jeff was right. Most of the people that she'd ever talked to, or heard talk, knew the limited story, the newspaper version of what happened, which was what Fudge and Crouch and even Dumbledore believed. Which was the very thing she was trying to prove was wrong. The only one that knew the whole thing would've been Voldemort or James Potter or….

The cat yowled in protest as Danica surged off the couch in excitement, barely setting down her cocoa. The cat, now on the floor, hissed in a disapproving voice and flounced off, most likely to pout. Danica ignored it and grabbed her pot of Floo powder, leaning toward her fireplace before thrusting a handful in and saying in a clear voice "Jeff"

As the fire turned green she shook her head. "I can't believe I didn't think of it before." She mumbled to herself. So simple, so easy…

"Jeff!" Danica exclaimed when his head appeared in the flames.

"Danica…what do you want?" He asked, his voice was curious.

"I need you to tell me how to arrange a visit to Azkaban."

* * *

So, what do you guys think? The next chapter's started and sort of planned so I'll work on that in between working on my update for As the Wind Blows. Tell me what you think and please review!!


	2. The Prisoner

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers - you guys seemed really interested in the story which spurred me to finish this chapter pretty fast and get working on the next one as well. I'm glad you're enjoying it -I hope you continue to :)

**Disclaimer:** I own Danica Clarke and the storyline - but sadly not Sirius Black :(

* * *

Chapter 2: The Prisoner

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this." Jeff shivered, his coat bunched around his shoulders as he looked at the big door in front of them. "This is crazy!"

Danica rolled her eyes, craning her neck to see the black iron door disappear into the thick stone walls of Azkaban. Small windows could be seen, iron bars caging in the prisoners, as well as the invisible spells. The wind howled around her and the sea crashed into the rocks at the edge of the island. Jeff shivered again.

"You didn't have to come." Danica said, looking at Jeff, feeling almost pity as the older man looked back at her with fear in his face.

"You think I'd let you wander in here? Alone?" He demanded.

Danica cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're coming in to talk to him, then?"

Jeff shrugged a shoulder. "Moral support then. This way if the Dementors go loony I can help you out. Have you ever conjured a partronus before?"

He was rambling. Danica sighed and shook her head. "No, but I remember the spell."

"Fat lot of good that's going to do us." Jeff mumbled under his breath, the wind caught the words and Danica frowned at him.

"Jeff if you want to wait-"

"I'm coming Danica. At least until you go to chat with Sirius Black. You may believe he's innocent, but I for one am sticking to the proven story."

Danica glared at him. "That he's a crazy mass murderer?"

"Aye."

Danica rolled her eyes again and was about to retort when the doors of the prison swung open. A man cloaked in black stood waiting. "Name?" He asked.

"Danica Clarke. I'm here to see Sirius Black."

The man raised an eyebrow at her, still not beckoning them out of the cold. "On purpose?"

Danica glared at him. "Well it certainly wasn't by accident." She told him sharply.

The man made a face. "No need to get testy. If you want to talk to the Dark Lord's heir I suppose that's your own business, but I'm gonna need to see the paperwork and ID."

Danica handed the desired materials over to the man, who wrinkled his nose at them as he read. He looked up at Danica for a moment, then lifted his wand. The tip glowed faintly and Danica blinked, her head feeling light.

"Name."

"Danica Marie Clarke."

"Job?"

"Reporter for the Daily Prophet."

"Name."

"Jeff Kevin Robbs."

"Job?"

"Reporter for the Daily Prophet."

The light feeling in her head lifted and the man beckoned them inside, returning their IDs as he did so. "So you're the crazy reporter who wants to interview Sirius Black?" He said.

Danica wasn't sure whether she should respond to the question, but decided against it. "Can you point me in the right direction?" She demanded.

"Wouldn't do you any good, you'd get lost in here, and then I'd have to come and find you. Or send the Dementors after you." He was missing teeth, it was revolting.

Meanwhile Danica was seething, her temper that rivaled that of any red-head's was flaring up and it was all she could do to grit her teeth and hold her tongue. "Then would you be _kind_ enough to _lead_ me to Sirius Black's cell?"

The man ignored her question and looked over at Jeff. "What did your girlfriend promise to do with you to get you to come?" He asked.

Jeff turned a dark red that was almost impossible to see in the dark. "Um…she's not…"

"Never mind, hold back on the details." The man interrupted, turning to lead them down the hall. Jeff purposefully kept his gaze on the man's jacket and Danica fiddled with the hem of her cloak in agitation.

The man, as crude and disgusting as he was, had been right about one thing - had she attempted to find Sirius Black's cell on her own, she would most certainly have gotten lost. Each hallways melded into more so that by the time they reached another thick black door, Danica had a headache.

The man tapped the door three times and murmured at least three different counter-spells before the door swung open. Seeing her interested look the man grinned at her. "Behind this door is the Death Eaters wing, as I like to call it, all the slimy devils who followed You-Know-Who are in the cells behind this door.

"Well that's intelligent, putting _all_ of the dark wizards in one great big clump." Danica told him icily. The man glared at her and pushed open the door.

"Normally no human can get in, only Dementors and prisoners, but special guests are given clearance." The man explained. "His is the fifth cell down."

The moment Danica crossed the threshold she felt as though she'd been dunked in a bucket of ice water. Her skin prickled and her mind twisted in almost pain. She gritted her teeth and look up to see a Dementor floating nearby. It turned its face, if you could call it that, toward her and Danica shivered.

"Don't worry about the Dementor's, they're tame enough to leave you alone. They have enough fun torturing this lot to not worry about you."

That was reassuring, Danica thought to herself. She turned and looked back at the man, who hadn't crossed the threshold.

"He's all yours, if you can get him to talk. I'll come back in an hour. You need anything, just scream." He smirked at her and Danica frowned as he turned to walk away. Jeff made to follow, glancing quickly at Danica.

"Good luck." He said shakily, then nearly ran off.

"Thanks." She mumbled to herself

Danica frowned and kept one eye on the Dementor as she walked past the cells Each one had three stone walls on the back and on either side. In front was a wall of iron bars, with a small door that you wouldn't have been able to see was it not for the large lock on the edge.

She counted each cell until she reached the fifth one, then stopped.

It was silent, but for the soft moans that seemed to trickle from each cell. Except, strangely enough, the one she was now facing. She stepped forward, her hands shaking slightly as she placed one on the bars.

"Sirius Black?"

There was no response. He could be asleep, Danica thought to herself. I could come back later.

The more stubborn side of her quashed that idea immediately. It had taken quite the leg-pulling and sucking up to get here. She wasn't about to just leave with nothing.

Besides who could honestly be asleep with the Dementors floating about?  
"Sirius Black."

Still silence. Frustrated Danica kicked a bar on the cell, wincing for her efforts. "Sirius Black!" She barked, frustrated.

Then she heard it - a snort coming from the back of the cell. She couldn't tell if it was amused or insulting, but either way it proved that Sirius Black was definitely not asleep.

Danica squinted her eyes. The light was faint, but there was enough of it to see the outline of a very thin man with very long hair sitting in the very back of the cell. She could just barely see the twist of his lips that resembled something like a smirk.

"Sirius Black." She said it as a salutation now and saw his mouth twist a little more so that it almost resembled a grin. He probably thought those were the only two words she knew.

"I'm Danica Clarke, a reporter for the Daily Prophet." She continued. Still he didn't say anything, just watched her. Danica frowned, maybe he was a mute…could Dementor's do that to you? "And I'm doing an article on…an article on…" She paused, that twisted half amused look was still on his face. "What?" She finally demanded.

Black shook his head for a moment, then looked up at her again. He looked normal, surprisingly. Obviously much skinnier and older than she remembered, but he looked fairly sane. Though looks could be deceiving.

"Okay, well I have some questions for you." Still he didn't respond and her frustration reached a new point. The look hadn't left his face and he was just watching her…at least she thought he was watching her, she couldn't really tell because the top of his face was cloaked in shadow and wild hair. He just sat there….

"What are you doing sitting in the corner?" She hadn't meant to ask that, she'd meant to ask something official and productive - like about Pettigrew's death or about Voldemort…anything except about him sitting in the corner.

If possible the smirk widened. "Isn't corners usually where you put bad boys?" He replied in a rough voice that gave the impression he hadn't used it often in 12 years, except for perhaps to scream.

"Either that or in a heavily guarded prison with floating nightmares." Danica said before she could stop herself.

Black slowly stood up and cocked his head at her. "A sense of humor…quaint."

"A strangely sane, insane mass murderer." Dancia replied. "Quaint."

Danica quickly put her hand on her mouth to stifle the surprised gasp that came from her lips at her own smart rebuttle. She had come to talk, professionally, to him and now she was practically flirting with him.

On the other hand, at least he was talking.

Black looked almost like he was about to laugh, but caught himself, his smile fading from his lips as he looked back at her.

"What are you doing here?" It was a growl, and the previous joking evaporated. Danica braced herself.

"I came to ask you if you're the heir to Voldemort, if you killed a street of Muggles and if you murdered Peter Pettigrew."

Black blinked at her for a moment, looking stunned. "You're crazy." He finally said, his voice raw. "And I thought I was the one who was supposed to have lost my sanity."

Danica frowned at him. "I am not crazy. I think that those three things aren't true, and since everyone else in the Wizarding World believes they are, I decided to come to the one person who would know."

"Sorry, Voldemort and Pettigrew aren't in now. The first one having been destroyed by James' son, and Pettigrew..." Sirius stopped and one of his hands that was already balled into a fist, tightened.

"Why do you care anyway?" He inquired instead, again sounding much saner than she'd been expecting.

Danica looked back at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean why do you care whether I'm innocent or not."

"I'm a reporter."

"That clears it up, thank you." His reply was scathing and Danica glared at him, though she was sure her evil look was lost in the shadows.

"I'm a reporter and I want to prove you're innocent, and show the rest of the world too."

"So I'm a newspaper story? That's why you think I'm innocent?"

Danica was stunned. "Well…I…"

"That seems like a pretty pathetic reason, Reporter."

"It's Ms. Clarke." She corrected him sharply.

Black shrugged an uncaring shoulder and turned his back to her. "Go away, Reporter." It was a dismissal if she ever heard one.

But Danica was not about to be pushed around by a once dashing prince of Hogwarts and definitely not by a prisoner who badly needed a haircut.

"Listen to me, Sirius Black." She began, leaning close to the bars of the cell. "I am not going anywhere. I think you're innocent and right now it doesn't matter why I think that, I just do. And frankly, I would think an innocent man would jump at the chance to get his story in print to possibly clear his name and be free."

She didn't expect what happened next. For a man who had been locked in a single cell for 12 years, Black was surprisingly fast. Before Danica could even think to react he was at the cell door with his hand on hers, keeping her glued to the bars. The faint light caught his gaunt face and dark bottomless eyes. Danica tried to pull away but felt like she couldn't. 'If you need anything, just scream' the man had said earlier - but her voice seemed to be captured between locked lips.

"Do you honestly think, Reporter, that you can print that line in a paper and get anything other than compliments on your ability to spin a fictional story? No one is going to believe my word that I didn't betray them." His voice cracked slightly. "No one is going to believe, with my family history, that I wasn't a Death Eater, and _no one_ is going to believe I'm innocent." Sirius told her, eyes locked tightly with her own.

Danica was stunned silent, staring back at him with wide eyes, her mind slowly registering what he had said - though half of it seemed to be allusions to things she didn't understand. "Don't you want to be free?" She finally asked him.

He stared at her furiously for a moment, then his gaze drifted into something else and she thought she heard a growl from deep in his throat. Then he let go of her hand then, and stepped away, leaning against one of the side walls, then sliding down to sit on the floor.

Danica frowned at him. She had come here intent on getting information from Black to prove his innocence. In a single hour she would have all the facts and information, whip up a brilliant story and badda-bing, badda-boom Black would be free she would be on her pedestal and everything would be okay.

Obviously it wasn't going to happen that way.

"What are you doing now?" She asked, pulling away from the bars in case he decided to leap at her again.

Black gave her a look. "You're the reporter, you tell me."

Danica ground her teeth together and watched him. "Are you going to answer my questions or not?"

"No." When she opened her mouth to protest he gave her an icy look that didn't match his dark eyes. "Because it wouldn't matter if I did…if I'm all you have to go on, Reporter, then you're not getting any story and I'm not getting out…because no one is going to believe you without some good damn good proof."

"Us." Danica said slowly, and Black frowned at her. "No one would believe us…it's our story."

Black shook his head, denying it. Then he went silent, and it didn't matter how many times she asked a question, how many different ways she phrased it, he wouldn't respond.

This, Danica realized as she left the island with a chatty Jeff at her side, was going to be a lot harder than she'd thought.

* * *

So what did you think? Hopefully you liked it. Originally they started off very civil with one another - but then I decided that after 12 years in Azkaban, Sirius' manners are probably not refined and polished and he probably doesn't believe she really thinks he's innocent. Also I wanted to show that Danica has to do a little more than just talk to Sirius and get all the answers - she's gonna have to get her hands dirty elsewhere too. Please Review and tell me what you think though :) :) :)


	3. A New Plan

A/N: So I got asked this a couple times and I'm going to clarify it here - this is going to be set sort of during the Prisoner of Azkaban, and it begins just around the end of June - since Sirius escapes around the end of July. Just to clear that up. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Disclaimer: I own Danica Clarke and the storyline, but not anything in the Harry Potter universe.

* * *

Chapter 3: A New Plan

"And how are you today, sunshine?" Jeff asked cheerfully, leaning against her door frame.

If she had a paperweight handy, and had some hand-eye coordination, Danica was sure she would've thrown said paperweight right at Jeff's head.

"Oh just great - we could even go as far to say peachy." Danica spat out, glowering at him.

"Whoa." He held up his hands in surrender, coming slowly into the office. "You don't have to get all testy at me because Sirius Black didn't come clean and tell you everything."

"I don't want him to tell me everything." Danica fumed. "I want him to tell me that he's innocent and give me the proof so I can prove it to everyone else." She balled up yet another perfectly good piece of paper and threw it at the wall.

Jeff watched as the paper when array and landed near the window along with all the other paper balls Danica had been throwing for most of the day. He tilted his head and glanced over at the young reporter. "And you think this is going to help?"

Danica let out a long sigh. "No…but it's making me feel a little bit better." She pulled herself to her feet and grabbed her robe and wand. "And it makes me postpone the inevitable."

"Which is…?" Jeff prodded as he followed her out of her office and down the hall.

"Digging."

"In the front or back yard?"

Danica rolled her eyes. "Digging for information…you know, brainstorming every little bit of everything I know about Sirius Black until I can either put the pieces together myself, or black mail him into telling me."

"I'm assuming you're going for the former?" Jeff inquired as she stepped through the door to the outside world.

Danica looked back and grinned at him. "Well I'm not ruling out the latter just yet."

--

Danica flopped down on her couch, staring up at the pale ceiling above her. She had arranged another visit to Azkaban for three days later, and she wanted to be prepared this time. Sirius Black was not going to wheedle his way out of her hour and her questions. But she needed to be prepared.

She'd had questions…all the questions she thought she needed. But he hadn't answered a single one of them - not one. Maybe they weren't the right questions…or maybe she was looking for the wrong answers.

Danica sat up, pondering the last thought. Black had said that no one would believe his word…a fact that, belatedly, Danica found herself admitting. She wouldn't believe it if Bellatrix Lestrange came out saying she was a saint and innocent - and to the wizarding world, Black and Lestrange were exactly the same.

So she had to find some evidence to prove they weren't. Then his word might matter.

Jumping up she went over to the very clean and straightened desk that sat in the corner of the living room. Flopping down she grabbed some paper and a pen, biting the end of it as she thought.

One of her boss reporters at a Muggle magazine, a couple years before she'd joined the Daily Prophet, had told her that to get an idea flowing you have to brainstorm a bit about the subject. It could be what the subject's grade had been in school, or if he liked ice cream…whatever it took to get something flowing.

_Sirius Black_ she wrote in bold on the top of the paper. The name stared back at her mockingly. What connected to Sirius Black?  
A flash of a memory reminded her, in her first year she had seen the fifth years shortly after they'd finished their OWLs. When the Marauders, Sirius Black's little gang, had not only made a complete, or more complete, laughingstock of Severus Snape, but had then been royally shamed by Lily Evans. It had been slightly funny, and while at the time Danica had thought that the Marauders had been quite jerks, she'd learned afterwards in the years to come that they did have loyal, good hearts somewhere in their prankster bodies.

Besides, she really hadn't liked Snape.

Danica blinked out of her memory and found she'd written out those events in a scrawl going up the side of the page. Brainstorming, she grinned to herself. To one side of Black's name she wrote out _James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew - The Marauders_. Then she proceeded to write under each name.

Under Sirius' she put _criminal, in Azkaban for 12 years, murdered_ then she drew an arrow to Peter's name. Under Peter's she put _dead, killed November 1__st__, 1981 - remains: finger_. And finally under James' - _killed by Voldemort, October 31, 1981 with his wife Lily Evans _(Danica wrote her name bigger, just in case she needed to tie something in with her as well)_ succeeded by his son Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived._ Again Danica wrote Harry's name just slightly bigger. She continued writing and scrawling all over the page, adding memories or pranks that come to her mind from her days at Hogwarts, or even events she'd heard about after. When she finally stopped to look she realized that the only person who had nothing under his name, was Remus Lupin.

Danica frowned. She hadn't known Lupin at all, except that he'd been a Prefect, and was in the Marauders with the other three boys. But that was all she knew. She frowned slightly, unconsciously drawing circles around his name until the cat rubbed up against her legs, breaking the trance.

But before she went off to do her duty as cat-owner, she drew one more circle around Lupin's name, this time in red ink. Maybe she shouldn't just be paying Black a visit - maybe she should also pay the Remus Lupin one too.

--

The same man led her to the 'Deatheater's Wing', this time without many of the previous crass comments. Before she knew it she was standing alone in front of Black's cell.

"You have got to be kidding me." Black's distressing voice was enough to send a grin onto Danica's face. She folded her arms over her chest and gave him an appraising look when he came near the bars, into the faint light.

"Nope."  
Black grunted something incoherent. "You are crazy - "

"I know."  
"You have nothing better to do than bother me?" His voice was brusque, not as rough as it had been the first time she'd met him, but still like he wasn't used to using it.

Danica smiled. "You should feel honored."

"I feel sick."

She almost laughed, but caught herself and leaned on the bars, watching him. "Tell me about the Marauders."

He looked up at her sharply, his eyes confused. "What…did you say?"

"Tell me about the Marauders. James, Remus, Peter, you. You were the Marauders at school. I remember you walking into breakfast one morning announcing that the Marauders were coming and to show your appreciation." Danica said, watching him. If he wasn't going to answer her questions about Voldemort and Peter, then maybe he would answer these. And if he trusted her enough then maybe, just maybe, she could get the other answers she wanted too.

Black studied her, with a thoughtful look as though he was riffling through his brain to find that memory. "Why do you want to know about them?" He asked slowly.

Danica shrugged. "Why not? What have you got to lose?"

Black glanced around at the cell he was in and then looked back at her. "Nothing." He replied with a finality that told Danica he was being completely serious.

He paused for a moment, still looking unsure. Perhaps it was the concern of trusting her with such valuable memories as the Marauders most likely held. But then he finally spoke, "James' mom scolded us once, said we were marauding all over the place, and going to get ourselves into trouble. I liked the name, and convinced James to keep it."

Black stumbled over his words as though he was trying to piece together a long forgotten puzzle. "Remus was our conscious…he always said he should've done more to keep us from getting into trouble…from beating up on Snivellus…but he enjoyed it too, the getting into trouble bit at least. But he was always there to keep us from going too far…" Black stopped for a moment, but then he went on, almost like he was talking to himself, as though he'd forgotten she was even there.

"James was the leader, everyone always listened to him." Black' voice was dry. "He was smart…a bit of a big-head sometimes but he was always there for those he cared about…" Black looked down, his eyes sad. His voice was filled with the sort of love that Danica remembered seeing whenever the two boys were together. They were brothers, in more than blood. How could anyone think Black would follow anyone but James?

"He never once accused anyone of anything…never believed there was a spy trying to sell him to Voldemort…couldn't believe one of his friends could do that - "

"Wait." Danica stopped him. "What do you mean…a spy?"

Black glanced at her with a strange look in his eyes, as though seeing her for the first time. "The spy…" He mumbled, his voice trailing off as he stared at her, then shook his head. "It's not important anymore…"

"Obviously it is." Danica said abruptly.

Black glared at her. "Who do you think you are?" He suddenly barked at her, anger leaking into his voice. "Coming into here and riffling through my memories, like I have that many left..."

"I am not -"

"You don't even have a reason for thinking I'm innocent, and have you considered the idea that maybe I'm not as innocent as you think?" His voice echoed loudly in the cell, rage pouring out of him as though he'd never had the chance to get rid of it in twelve years…which was probably the case. "Maybe you're wrong - maybe I'm guilty and I'm just biding my time until Voldemort comes back…that's what everyone else in here is doing." He snarled at her.

Danica swallowed hard, almost taking a step back before the stubborn side of her kicked in. "You are crazy." She finally said.

Black laughed loudly, the shrill crackling sound echoing around him as he fell back to lean against the wall, half covered in shadow. When the echo finally died away, he looked at her with a black blaze in his dark eyes. "Oh no, I'm sane…disgustingly, pathetically, unhelpfully sane."

He slid down the wall and sat, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes still on her. His chest was heaving from his yelling, but his anger seemed to be subsiding.

Danica stood watching him, her ears ringing from his tirade. She thought about moving away, leaving Azkaban and the story forever. But instead of moving her toward the door, her feet nearly collapsed underneath her, and she sat down on the other side of the bars, level now with Black.

She thought she saw his nostrils widen suddenly, as though he was inhaling her scent. But as that was impossible, she brushed it away. But his eyes were still on her.

"What?" She asked, slightly exasperated at being left once again with nothing to go on.

"Who are you?"

Danica cocked an eyebrow at him. "I told you that already…I'm Danica Clarke…a reporter for the Daily -"

"Did you go to Hogwarts?" He was looking at her thoughtfully.

Danica made a face at him, the topic of conversation was so different, so completely opposite from what she had wanted to discuss….

And yet she found herself answering…"Yes."

He frowned at her. "I don't remember you…you'd think I would, you're not exactly ugly."

'Not exactly ugly'? Danica debated slapping him right there, then decided that wouldn't be the best course of action. She probably couldn't even reach him through the bars.

"I was in 3rd year your 7th." She told him. "You didn't date anyone under 5th, so I'm seriously doubting you'd have noticed me." She said it plainly, straight to the point.

Black gave her that measuring look, though behind his eyes she thought she saw something like a person scrounging around for a memory lost long ago. "That's a pity."

Danica was pretty sure that the heat on her cheeks wasn't from anger. Quickly she turned her face away, looking up the long hallway in time to see one of the Dementors gliding along the wall. She shivered unconsciously, her eyes still on the ghost-like creature.

"They scare you?" It was a question. She turned her gaze back to meet his and gave him a little half smile.

"A bit…you?"

Black studied her. "They scare everyone." It was the first question of hers he'd answered, though true to form he hadn't answered it the traditional sense.

They sat there silently as the minutes stretched on. Danica could feel her legs starting to fall asleep, but she couldn't bring herself to stand up. Next time, should bring a chair, she told herself.

"You're 12 years late, you know." Black said absently, watching her.

She frowned. "What do you mean, I'm 12 years late?"

"I've been here for 12 years…and you're just now coming to try and prove my innocence? Wasn't interesting enough 10 years ago?" He asked, a slight edge of bitterness in his tone, but mostly his voice was casual.

"Twelve years ago I was still a schoolgirl." She pointed out and watched as he shrugged a shoulder and looked away. That didn't account for five years ago or three years ago. Why had it taken her this long? Because she had been a nothing for so long in the world, she had been almost non-existent in the wizarding world for years, and even now she couldn't call what she did show-stopping, or world changing. But after all those years she was finally in a place, the Daily Prophet, where she could do this story and get it noticed…and after all those years she'd finally gotten up enough guts to go for it.

So far those 'guts' had gotten her to sitting on the floor of Azkaban prison talking about Dementors and Hogwarts with a sane, insane accused mass-murderer.

Life was lovely.

"If you'd come then at least I might've retained some of my good looks and glittering charm." Black continued as he glanced over at her. Danica snorted in an attempt to not laugh and Black studied her. "Don't think I retained any of my looks, do you?" He demanded, but something was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Danica shook her head, looking at his gaunt face…maybe if he ate something or got out in the sun…or cut that hair… "I was told it was wrong to lie." She told him, grinning.

Black's eyes seemed to glow with, could it be amusement? But it faltered slightly as he spoke. "There are plenty of worse things you could do than lie, Danica Clarke." He told her slowly.

She watched him silently, pondering exactly what to say when the door at the end of the hall opened. Danica jerked and saw the man peaking out at her as he had the first time.

"Sorry, Ms. Clarke, you gotta leave. Minister Fudge is coming this afternoon for inspection."

Danica swallowed and nodded. "Okay…I just…" She stopped as her eyes fell on the cell. Black was gone. She could hear his breathing, but he had hidden himself back in the shadows. "I'll come back…another day…" She said it to the darkness, but by the sound of a shifting body, she knew he'd heard her.

--

When she got home the long rays of the afternoon were stretching out across her living room in oranges and reds. Danica tossed her cloak to the side and stepped over to the desk, looking at the paper she'd scribbled over that morning. Her eyes landed on the circled name and she nodded to herself.

It was definitely time to pay the remaining Marauder a visit.

* * *

Tell me what you think. This story finally clicked so I have a sort-of plan which was more than I had (I was going on instict) so the reassuring side of that is that this will actually get done :) If you're also reading As the Wind Blows, don't worry the next chapter is almost done and I am in no way forgetting about that story. But anyways, please review!! And I'll get a new chapter up soon :)


End file.
